


Expectations and Questions

by mistrstank (dreamingdarkly)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Returns, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Identity Porn, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Poor Tony, Pre-Iron Man 1, Slow Build, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8339104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingdarkly/pseuds/mistrstank
Summary: Tony is four years old when he gets his first set of words, and five when he gets his second. They shape his development and life in cruel and devastating ways. After a lifetime of feeling inadequate, it's no surprise Tony chooses to keep his identity as Iron Man a secret. But when a defrosted supersoldier says his words, it throws a giant monkey wrench in everything Tony knows. Mix a recovering POW in, and Tony doesn't know what's up anymore, and he's not sure he's worth the trouble of figuring it out.Or: In which Tony is dumb and has low self worth, Steve Rogers is also dumb (but we love him anyway) and Bucky Barnes would really just like to know what the fuck is happening and what the hell is Netflix.





	1. Developmental Hiccups

**Author's Note:**

> My second fiction! I'm actually super proud of this so far. I have a pretty good idea of where I'm going with everything and should hopefully have it finished pretty rapidly. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr under mistrstank! I'd love to cry with you over Tony Stark.
> 
> No Steve or Bucky in this chapter, but we're ready for the avengers in the next chapter so they're not far away!

Tony Stark is four years old and his little face is swollen and red with tears. He is curled in the bathroom, tucked in a tiny space between the basin and the wall.  
"Young Master, whatever is the matter?" Jarvis, face creased in concern, wraps strong arms that smell of cinnamon around him. Tony hides his face in the butler's shoulder and wraps tiny fists in his jacket.  
"My _w-words_." He whispers, too afraid to say it any louder, as though Sir might hear if he does.  
  
He doesn't look to see Jarvis' reaction, but he hears the man sigh.  
"Oh, master Anthony, my poor boy." A moment later a gentle hand traces the words curling in elegant, precise writing across his shoulder.   
  
_I expected more._  
  
~x~  
  
Tony is five years old when Howard sees his words, and he never forgets the sneer on his face.  
"I understand the sentiment." He snarls, and drops the robot dog Tony had presented him with, as well as the handful of his shirt that had ripped loose. Tony stumbles at the sudden release and hits the floor. He blinks up at his father, and flinches when he feels the burn of new words draping themselves down his forearm. Howard notices, and his gaze drops to the looping scrawl.  
"Two sets of words? God damn it, boy, can't you do anything right?" He shakes his head in disgust and storms away.   
  
Tears dripping down his cheeks, Tony looks down at his arm for the first time.  
  
_Why are you here?_  
  
~x~  
  
Tony is seventeen and his parents are dead. More importantly, Jarvis is dead. He's alone and the only person he has in the world is Obadiah, his only friend Rhodey. He stands at his parent's funeral, dry eyed, distant and cold. He feels nothing, barely aware of the warmth of Obadiah's hand on his shoulder.   
  
After, in the car, Obadiah throws an arm heavy with expectation around Tony's shoulder.  
"Don't worry, Tony. You'll be okay. I expect big things of you, son." He says in his deep, rumbling voice.  
  
He looks concerned when Tony starts laughing, and doesn't stop for a long time.  
  
~x~  
  
' _I expected more'_  his words say, and Tony goes fast and hard through life. He speaks louder, thinks faster, builds better. He meets every expectation and then _exceeds_  them. There are no boundaries, there is no more.  
  
_'Why are you here?'_  His words say, and Tony makes himself useful, makes himself _necessary_. He keeps his shoulder and his forearm covered. He blasts Stark Industries to the top of the weapons industry, wines and dines the most beautiful women (and men). He donates to charities, shmoozes at parties, wins awards. He makes himself the centre of attention wherever he goes.  
  
Why is he here? Why _wouldn't_ he be?  
  
~x~  
  
Tony is riding in the back of a Humvee when his world explodes. Three months in Afghanistan and he is reborn from the ashes of his old life. He is tortured, brutalised, and witnesses the horrible truth of his legacy. There's a car battery in his chest and Tony thinks of his words and he's not sure if he wants to cry or scream. All that work, and he'd just proved them right in the end.  
"A heavy burden," Yinsen murmurs, tracing the words on his shoulder with gentle hands. It reminds him of Jarvis.  
"It's nothing." Tony shrugs it off, covering the words with a hand that only shakes a little. Yinsen gives him a shrewd look, but doesn't argue. Instead he lays the plans for their escape down in front of them and taps at the paper.  
"What's next?" He asks.  
  
Tony grins, sharp and feral, and turns his mind to getting them home. He has a legacy to change.   
  
Yinsen dies, choking on his own blood, sacrificed for Tony.  
"Don't waste your life." He whispers, and all Tony hears is _expectations_.  
  
_'Why are you here?'_  His words say, and Tony has no answer. He shouldn't be. He's not sure he wants to be.  
  
~x~  
  
Tony goes home, and Iron Man is born. Iron Man is everything Tony is not; he's a hero, and he doesn't care about expectations. He has a purpose, he knows why he is here. Tony flies and fights and builds. He shuts down weapons manufacturing, turns Stark Industries towards clean energy And medical technology. He withdraws from the public eye, retreats to his lab with his bots and his inventions. He eats sometimes, when Pepper and Rhodey arrive to drag him from the lab.

  
The media doesn't seem to know if it hates or loves Iron Man. He's a vigilante to some, a hero to others. The media questions Tony's new nomadic lifestyle. Everybody wants a piece of him, but Tony can't bring it in him to give a shit.   
  
_'Don't waste your life'_  Yinsen said and Tony makes it his mission not to disappoint a dead man.  
  
~x~  
  
"I expected more," Obadiah sneers cruelly, and rips Tony's heart from his chest, quite literally. He leaves Tony to die, alone in his mansion with JARVIS silent. He contemplates lying there, letting the shrapnel finish the job Obadiah started.  
  
_'Why are you here?'_ His words say, and Pepper is in danger, and Tony rolls off the couch and  _crawls_. He has very few people in the world, and he refuses to lose he has. Rhodey arrives just in time, and he is the first to learn Iron Man's other face.  
  
Tony fights, nearly dies (again) and feels barely anything when Obadiah dies. His identity is safe, and when he stands upon the podium, he briefly contemplates telling the world.   
  
I am Iron Man.  
  
_I expected more._  
 _Why are you here_?  
  
He tells them Iron Man is his bodyguard. It's better for everyone that it stays a secret. Tony Stark is no hero.


	2. Existential Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Tony is dying (again), has selfworth issues (always), someone is trying to kill him (again) and fate seems to be laughing at him.
> 
> In summary: Iron Man 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So, we're still short a Steve and a Bucky, but I'm getting there I promise!
> 
> I've mostly skimmed through Iron Man 2, if only to highlight the things that I've changed for the purpose of this story. In the next chapter, we'll hit Avengers and finally get ourselves some Captain America up in here!
> 
> Thanks for bookmarking and reading everyone. <3

The arc reactor is killing him. Tony stares at the results on the screen, and then laughs until he makes himself sick. The  _ irony,  _ the object keeping him alive is killing him at the same time, and if that isn’t a fucking  _ metaphor  _ for his life.

 

Death is knocking at his door, again (always?), and Tony finds himself once again looking down the barrel of his rapidly shortening future.

 

_ Why are you here?  _

 

He doesn’t know, wonders if he should be. After all, fate seems awful determined to kill him off, but like a cockroach he just  _ survives.  _

 

~x~

 

He loses himself, a little. Drinks like a fish, parties a little. Rhodey sits him down one night, warm brown eyes and big, familiar hands on his cheeks.   
“Tones, you’re  _ better  _ than this,” He whispers, and it’s no mistake his hand drifts across Tony’s shoulder, across the words that burn and scar.

 

_ I expected more. _

 

Rhodey knows, everything, all the dark little parts of Tony he tries to deny are there. He knows Iron Man’s true face; knows the words on Tony’s shoulder that make him feel small, the words on his arm that make him feel lost. But he doesn’t know…   
  
“Honeybear, m’dyin’.” Tony slurs, too much whiskey and too much heartbreak, and he fishes until he can pull the artificial skin flap off, until the bright light of the reactor fills the room. He’s kept it a secret since Afghanistan, and Obadiah ( _ Obie)  _ only proved the necessity of it. Rhodey’s eyes widen, and his hands (so warm, comforting, familiar) smooth gently over the black marks spreading out.   
“Why does my heart always try to kill me?” Tony whispers, thinking of family and fate, words that prove he’s not  _ wanted, not good enough,  _ betrayal and Obie literally ripping his heart out.

 

Rhodey makes a choked sound and all at once, he’s buried in warmth and a smell he’d know anywhere, the scent of the only home he’s ever known.

 

~x~

 

Tony Stark signs his company over to Pepper Potts, and the media explodes. Pepper smiles grimly through the oncoming storm, because she doesn’t know  _ why  _ Tony’s doing this, but she knows she’ll never fail him. She doesn’t know  _ why  _ he needs this, but she also knows that anything Tony genuinely needs, Pepper will provide. 

 

Happy starts arriving with coffee, fresh and hot, because Tony looks worn down and tired. He tries to cover it, smiles wide and bright, but Happy Hogan knows a thing or two about his genius. He slings a friendly arm over Tony’s shoulders (Tony  _ lets  _ him) and tucks the smaller man in against his side.   
“When was the last time we boxed?” He asks, side-eyeing Tony and viciously restraining his smile when Tony visibly brightens.

 

They goof around more than do any real boxing; it reminds Happy of roughhousing with the guys in high school. For Tony, who never experienced that, it’s simply fun. Pepper comes in, trailed by a red-headed woman Tony’s never seen. He glances over while taking a drink from his water bottle. She’s gorgeous, all slender lines and porcelain skin. There’s something almost challenging in the way she looks at him, a woman who knows her own beauty and expects him to prove he’s worthy of even looking upon it.

 

_ I expected more. _

 

Tony coughs and slides his gaze away. He doesn’t enter into competitions of worthiness - he hates losing. He still hires her as his PA, however, because he also enjoys reminding himself of that.

 

~x~

 

“Palladium in chest. Painful way to die.” Vanko laughs, the sound dark and satisfied, like Tony's pain is something beautiful to him.

 

_ I expected more. _

 

Maybe it is.

 

~x~

 

“I'd do whatever I wanted, with whoever I wanted.” Natalie says, and the light of challenge is still in her eyes, but also something darker. It's only there a moment, and then it's gone again, and Tony wonders if he was ever supposed to see it. 

 

It's his birthday, probably his last, so what does he want to do?

 

_ Why are you here? _

_ I expected more. _

 

What does he want to be remembered for?

 

Stark Mansion throws a big, extravagant birthday party. It's a roaring success, due mostly to the open bar. Tony Stark does not make an appearance.

 

No one notices. 

 

On the other side of the world, Iron Man rescues a family from a burning building, breaks up an arms deal and helps rescue services locate a shipwrecked fisherman.

 

People start to whisper how the glow in the armour’s chest looks like  _ hope. _

 

~x~

 

“I call it War Machine,” Tony whispers, something small and shy in his voice, running a careful hand over the gunmetal grey of the suit. Rhodey has an arm wrapped tight around his shoulders, like he thinks if he holds on  _ just tight enough _ , he can keep Tony here, with him.

“Tones, I…” He trails off, something anguished in his voice and Tony  _ hates  _ being the cause of Rhodey’s pain.

“It's not finished,” Tony rushes on, gripping tight to Rhodey’s free hand. “My mission, it's not done. And, I'm running out of time Poobear. I need someone to finish the job, after I'm de-gone.” Tony squeezes Rhodey’s hand, tips his head against his best friend's shoulder. “There's no one I'd trust more than you with this.” He adds, a final nail in the coffin, and hears Rhodey sigh. 

 

“So, War Machine huh?”

 

~x~

 

Justin Hammer is a  _ dick. _

 

~x~

 

Natalie is actually Natasha, a SHIELD plant intended to keep an eye on Tony, and hopefully uncover Iron Man’s identity.

 

He’s pretty sure SHIELD knows, but they’re not saying anything and he’s not confirming it.

 

~x~

 

“What is and always will be my greatest creation, is you.” Howard Stark says solemnly, eyes steady on the camera. Tony chokes on his drink a little, and then laughs, and  _ laughs  _ because his life is a fucking joke.

 

_ “Can’t you do anything right, boy?” _

 

Yeah, he can. He can save his own life.

 

~x~

 

Justin Hammer  _ is a dick. _

 

~x~

 

The new reactor shines like a star in his chest, heavy with the weight of responsibility but no longer with the burning ache of poison. He takes the first deep breath since the results, and it feels like being reborn again (and again and again).

 

~x~

 

Ivan Vanko, for all his genius, and his knowledge of the Arc, makes pretty shitty robots (though the simultaneous explosions is a nice touch). Between Iron Man and War Machine, the expo gets cleaned up and while Tony cringes when he thinks of the property damage,  _ people  _ are safe.

 

Iron Man’s face is everywhere; everyone wants an interview with Tony. They want to build a statue, honour the hero. Rhodey gets a medal.

 

_ “Who is Iron Man?”  _ They ask, and Tony smiles and deflects until he wants to scream. 

 

I am Iron Man.

 

But he’s not, not really. Iron Man is someone else; he’s a hero. Tony Stark is just a really smart guy with a lot of sins to atone for.

 

~x~

 

_ Why are you here?  _

 

For Rhodey, who cries (and denies it forever afterward) when Tony tells him he’s okay and hugs him until he bruises.

 

_ Why are you here? _

 

For Pepper, who beats him half to death with a clipboard when Tony admits the truth, and then hugs him until he bruises (again).

 

_ Why are you here? _

 

For Happy, who claps Tony on the shoulder and demands Tony buy him “at least, like, 50 cheeseburgers” for the trouble.

 

Why is he here?

  
Because Iron Man is needed. And maybe, just maybe, Tony Stark is too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed me your feedback <3 Is there something you want to see? Let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avengers Assemble!
> 
> Or: Tony meets Doctor Banner, and that's great, and he also meets Steve Rogers, which is less great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it !
> 
> Steve hasn't done too much in this chapter, sadly, he didn't want to talk to me. I tried not to go too indepth with the movie, and only really touched on the areas where I've changed something.
> 
> At this stage, my plan is to set the next chapter after the movie, and we'll start to really delve into the angst and Steve will be a very confused puppy.
> 
> As always, come and see me on [Tumblr](http://www.mistrstank.tumblr.com) to cry with me over Tony or to see updates on what I'm doing with my writing!

 

Tony breathes slow and deep, counts the breaths in his head. In three, hold for two, out for three. His hands move on autopilot, leaving his mind to freak out over the fact he’s  _ underwater.  _ Afghanistan pretty much killed all desire to ever submerge himself in water again (baths are  _ right out _ ) and yet here he is.

 

He can’t launch his way out fast enough when it’s done. Iron Man bursts from the water like a torpedo, spiraling up into the sky in a flare of bright light.   
“Go ahead and flip the switch, Pepperpot.” Tony says, angling around a corner until he’s on a direct approach to Stark Tower.   
“You sure we’re not gonna blow up?” Happy’s voice comes over the line, amused and indulgent. Tony finds himself smiling, even though his friends ( _ family _ ) can’t see it.   
“Happy, I’m offended, deeply offended, I might even say  _ appalled  _ that you would ask me that. I am a genius, sir, I never blow up things unless I intend to.” Tony snarks easily, and opens his mouth to carry right on with his babble when Pepper guffaws loudly.   
“Bull!” She exclaims, and something in him warms at the clear sound of her laughter. “You’re  _ always  _ blowing things up, Tony.” 

 

Tony laughs, slowing his flight to appreciate the sight of his tower bursting back into light.   
“How does it look?” Pepper asks softly, pride and affection in her voice.   
“Like Christmas, but with more...Me.” He quips, angling up the side of the tower. Pepper’s tone turns all business again, and Tony tunes out as is his norm.   
“Pepper, the moment, you’re killing it. Remember, enjoy the moment?”

 

He flies through the entrance specially designed for the armour on the same floor as his workshop and JARVIS removes the armour seamlessly as he walks the landing platform. He’d thought about installing one on the roof, but no bodyguard is on duty 24/7 and it seemed suspicious if Iron Man was seen entering and leaving the penthouse all the time. It only takes a moment to hop the elevator JARVIS has waiting for him up to the penthouse, where Pepper and Happy are both waiting.

  
“Sir, Agent Coulson of SHIELD is on the line,” JARVIS intones in the elevator, and Tony taps thoughtfully at the reactor.    
“Tell him to leave a message, I have a celebration.”

“Sir, I’m afraid he’s insisting.” JARVIS says after a short pause and Tony snorts.   
“Grow a spine, JARVIS. I’m having a moment, here!” 

 

Pepper wraps him in a hug the moment he leaves the elevator, and drops a sisterly kiss upon his forehead.   
“I’m proud of you,” She whispers, too raw, too honest, and Tony coughs awkwardly.    
“So! How does it feel to be a genius?” 

Pepper accepts the subject change with a knowing smile, and flicks his nose.   
“Well, ha, I really wouldn’t know, now would I?”

 

Happy sidles up behind Pepper, claps a meaty hand to Tony’s shoulder.   
“I hate to interrupt, but we have reservations.” He’s smiling and trying to seem relaxed, but Tony can see the nervousness, the quiet anxiety lurking in his friend’s eyes.   
“You’re right! Shoo, both of you, you’re ruining my moment, JARVIS and I, we have a date, we’re going to celebrate! I’m going to drink champagne and JARVIS is going to, I don’t know, troll 13 year olds on forums, whatever, he likes it, I try not to judge.”

“Indeed, Sir.” JARVIS responds, dry as the Sahara, as Tony ferries his friends towards the elevator. He’s disappointed and a little irritated when the doors open to reveal Coulson. He opens his mouth to berate JARVIS, but the usually bland agent has a tiny line of tension around his mouth and Tony pauses.

 

“Hold the dancers, J, the party will have to wait.” He says instead, thinks  _ ‘why are you here?’  _ and knows he’s about to get ass deep in trouble because that’s his  _ life.  _ Coulson is too professional to look grateful, but his shoulders straighten a miniscule amount. Pepper and Happy both give him worried looks, but they go without a fight.

 

“We need your help, Mr Stark.” Coulson says without preamble, striding past Tony and dropping a file on the table.    
“Mine? Or my bodyguard’s?”    
“Just you, but perhaps both. We need you to find this,” Coulson taps at the file, and Tony obligingly flips it open. He scowls immediately when he realises what he’s looking at.   
“The hell did dad pull that out of the ocean for?” He snarls, and Coulson merely shrugs.   
“Irrelevant. It’s been stolen, we need you to find it.” Coulson walks away, all smooth and professional again, and Tony turns to watch him leave.   
“And Iron Man?”   
  


Coulson smirks, folding his hands behind his back.   
“An Asgardian took the Tesseract.” He says simply, and the elevator doors close like JARVIS is  _ trying  _ to give the asshole dramatic effect.

 

“Motherfuck.” Tony says to an empty room, and then turns his attention to his homework.

 

~x~

 

“Jesus,” Tony mutters, watching shaky cellphone footage of Thor, a demigod what the  _ fuck  _ is his life, and  _ Captain America  _ fighting Loki, and each other, in Germany. Ass deep in trouble, exactly as he thought. He shakes his head and drops the phone into his pocket; he’d considered flying over in the suit, but it seemed a little convenient if Iron Man turned up there, and then Tony Stark turned up at SHIELD right as Iron Man disappeared.

 

This secret identity stuff was bullshit, and he considered dropping it at least five times a day, but -

 

_ I expected more. _

 

~x~

 

On the Helicarrier, he sets JARVIS to pilot the armour in Sentry mode, which basically means the armour trails him like a loyal hound. He doesn’t do it often, but on the odd occasion; he’s read the Batman comics, okay, and all the internet memes about Batman (he relates, a little, okay, it’s fine to be a Batman fan). He figures he can’t be Iron Man if he and Iron Man are seen in the same place, at the same time.

 

_ Secret identities are bullshit. _

 

He meets The Avengers, such as they are, when they’re sitting around trying to come up with “Step 2”.

 

“It’s a stabilising agent,” He says as he enters, bumping shoulders with Coulson companionably. The heavy footsteps of the armour trail him as he wanders a little closer. “It means that the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD.” He steps up to Fury’s consoles and turns slowly. After a moment, he covers half his face and turns again. “How does Fury even see all of these?” He wonders aloud.

“He turns.” Hill snaps, deadpan and dry as only a SHIELD-bot can be.   
“Sounds exhausting,” Tony returns with a lightning quick grin, before he turns his attention back to the room at large.

 

As he’s turning, he runs his hands across the displays, fiddling with them like a child presented with a new toy. Iron Man settles unobtrusively in the corner, like a good watchful bodyguard. He’s mostly ignored by the present Avengers.   
“The rest of the raw materials Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily.  The only major component he still needs is a power source of high-energy density;  something to kick start the Cube.” Tony clicks his fingers with one hand, and flicks a device onto the underside of the console with the other.   
“When did you become an expert on thermonuclear astrophysics?” Hill asks, one eyebrow threatening to twitch upwards and she almost looks  _ amused.  _   
“Last night,” Tony shrugs, tucks his hands into his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting. “The packet, Selvig’s notes, the extraction theory papers. Am I the only one who did the readings?” 

 

Rogers looks a little offended by Tony’s attitude, (no one is surprised, least of all Tony) and deliberately turns his attention to Banner.   
“Does Loki need any kind of power source?” He asks, and Banner slides his glasses from his nose to tap them thoughtfully in his hand.   
“He would have to heat the Cube to one hundred million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier.” Tony moves around the table to get closer, excitement at another scientist thrumming through him.   
“Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.” He says, and there’s a grin trying to fight it’s way on his face.   
“Well, if he could do that he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet.” Banner pops his glasses back on his nose, and Tony grins as he holds a hand out.   
“Finally! Someone who speaks English.” He quips, while Banner eyes his hand like it might bite him. Finally, he reaches out, tentative like something might break. Tony’s not sure who Banner is more concerned for, and he hates the fear in the other man’s eyes.   
“It’s good to meet you, Doctor Banner.” He says, low like it’s just the two of them. “Your work on antielectron collisions is unparallelled, plus, I’m a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into a giant green rage monster.” Tony grips tight to the other man’s hand, keeps his eyes steady, and sees the moment Banner realises Tony isn’t mocking him.   
“Uh, thanks.” He replies, and there’s something almost shy in the way he says it.   
“Doctor Banner is only here to track the cube, as are you, Stark.” Fury reminds them from the side, and Tony shrugs off the jab.

 

“Shall we get to work, Doctor?” 

 

_ Why are you here?  _

To save the world, apparently.

 

~x~

 

They’re in the lab, and it’s the quiet kind of peaceful Tony never has in his workshop. Normally, it makes him anxious, the lack of screaming music to work by. Somehow, having Banner present makes that less so. They work outrageously well together, and Tony is almost giddy with the excitement of having someone on his level.

“So he just...Sits there?” Banner asks after a moment, indicating the Iron Man armour lounging in the corner, eyes dark. Tony shrugs nonchalantly,   
“Pretty much. I worked hard to make the armour comfortable enough for Iron Man to stand around for long periods.”    
“And he can’t protect you out of the armour?” Banner fiddles with his glasses, an apparently nervous tick.   
“Hm, nah, it’s much cooler having a shiny robot punch your enemies.” Tony quips, deliberately vague and deliberately avoiding the question.

 

Steve enters while Tony is trying to convince Banner to come to Stark Tower, moving behind the man with the intention to poke him with something small and sharp. What? He’s curious and he’s never been known for having self preservation skills. Captain America’s entrance temporarily waylays that plan, mostly because Tony thinks the man will probably start an argument over it. He’s totally  _ not  _ sulking when he makes his way back over to his workstation and starts poking around, mostly doing busywork while JARVIS pulls apart SHIELD’s mainframe and looks into all their dark and dusty corners.

 

He’s more or less completely forgotten the Captain’s presence when he feels the heat of the other man’s body, close as Rogers leans over his shoulder to eye the same screen.   
“I expected more.” He says, sounding disappointed and a little wistful and Tony  _ jumps  _ like he’s the one being poked with things.

 

_ I expected more. _

 

The words burn, maybe in sympathy maybe in recognition, and Tony’s stomach drops down somewhere near his feet.

 

Of course.

 

Of.

 

Fucking.

 

_ Course. _

 

His soulmate is Captain America, of course he expected more,  _ he’s Captain America.  _ Tony breathes, shallow and a little panicked, and stumbles away from Rogers, Captain America,  _ Steve.  _ He needs out, right now, he needs to get out, away, find somewhere safe that he can freak out.

 

“Banner! I’m gonna hit the head, drank too much apple juice on the flight over, you know how it is. This’ll just keep running and I’ll be back after I, you know, anyway, yep, good I’ll be back.” He flails his hands around, knows he’s panicking and it shows, can’t figure out how to put his mask back together, how to rebuild his composure, and he  _ runs.  _

  
_ I expected more. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd, and so any mistakes I've missed in my proof reading process can be blamed on me and sleep deprivation!   
> Thanks for reading, lovelies <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes mistakes and bad choices, Steve is precious, Clint is irritated, and Thor is a closet troll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, and we now have a tentative idea of how many chapters remain! I have a pretty good outline of where I'm going now. This chapter took a little longer because Tony decided to change his mind halfway through this chapter and ruined my previous outline. No Bucky yet, but some delicious Stony angst in this chapter. I'm hoping to do my AU representation of CA:TWS next chapter, and then we can wade into OT3 territory.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me <3
> 
> No warnings for this chapter, except for Tony being Dumb with a capital d.

So it turns out, when Captain America is your soulmate, and you’re trying to avoid him, it’s _not_ the best plan to join a superhero team with him. It’s been four months since the Chitauri, and Tony has carefully avoided speaking directly to Cap on the comms in every battle. Admittedly, Steve would think _Iron Man_ was his soulmate if Tony slipped, but that’s a can of worms Tony would rather not open. Of course, then he had to go and compound the issue by letting Fury trip him into offering up his tower as living quarters.

 

Now, not only does Iron Man have to avoid talking directly to Cap on the comms, but Tony Stark has to avoid tall, blonde and perfect in his own _home._ Well, no one who knows him ever did accuse Tony of liking things _easy._

 

He tries not to think about what his life has become too often; the ridiculousness of it all gives him a headache. He found Clint washing his socks in the kitchen sink yesterday, and that is both disgusting and wrong, so wrong, Tony is clearly living in a frat house. Of course, that implies that he knows what a frat house _is_ beyond cheesy B-grade movies, since Tony went to college before he had facial hair. Although really, what does it say about his life that the creatively named ‘Doombots’ attacking the city at ass o’clock in the morning, before Tony has had his first coffee, is more ‘again, really?’ than batshit fucking crazy?

 

“They’re sneaking up on you, Merida.” Tony calls with false cheer, attention half on the archer and half on the Doombot he’s busy repulsoring in the face with relish. One does not simply interrupt Tony’s coffee time, after all. Clint flips him the bird, because he’s an asshole, but he also explodes the Doombot behind him. Without turning. _Asshole._ Bullets ping off one side of the armour, and Tony cringes as he imagines the nicks in the paint job. Work, work, work.   
“Iron Man, move it!” Cap barks, and Tony silently engages the thrusters, arrowing away from the threat. Three Doombots split off from a pack busily harassing a thoroughly pissed Hulk and Tony gleefully fires a few taunting repulsors at them.   
“Thor, if you’re free I’m playing chicken with some friends.”

Iron Man angles sharply around a corner, and inside the armour Tony cringes as he hears the crunch of one of his pursuers hit the building. He mentally adds a little more to the damage tally, and subtracts a little from his bank account.  
“I know not of this ‘chicken game’ you refer to,” Thor’s voice thunders in the comms, and thank god JARVIS turns the volume down whenever the big guy speaks or they’d all go deaf. “But I believe I catch your meaning!” A moment later the Demigod himself drops out of the sky, landing on one bot and smashing the other with his hammer on the way down.

 

Suddenly finding himself free of enemies, Tony turns gracefully in the air to scope out the rest of the battle. It’s winding down now, and Tony starts thinking about the new Hulk stretch-pants material he’s been working on. He’s hoping they’ll be a little less confining, a lot more comfortable and (obviously) better than Reed Richards’. It’s at about that moment that one of the hopelessly battered Doombots starts flashing ominous red lights, and Tony might not have noticed it at all except it’s lying about four feet behind Cap and Tony _always_ notices him. Time slows down as Tony blasts himself towards his oblivious soulmate, and he can hear someone yelling, and he thinks it might be him.   
“Jesus, fuck, christ on a damn cracker, Cap _move!_ ” He hears, distantly, realises it’s his own voice but he can’t spare the thought to panic. His mind spools out, thoughts flying in billions of directions, and then it stops.

 

Settles.

 

Tony’s mind goes still, calm, and everything is happening lightning fast but Tony is steady as a fucking _rock._ He makes the calculations in seconds, slows the armour down just enough that he won’t hurt Steve. There’s a mental countdown in his head, JARVIS’ low voice in his ear echoing it, and Tony gets a metal clad arm around a beefy chest and _moves._ Behind them, there’s an almighty _boom,_ echoed by several smaller sounding explosions, and a wave of heat and force sends the pair of them tumbling. Tony keeps a desperate hold of Steve, uses the armour as a shield and his free hand to try and stabilise their flight. It works, in a fashion, though they dive bomb into the corner of a building with enough force Tony thinks his shoulder almost dislocated, and they may have carried on through a few more walls if Hulk hadn’t caught them. The impact with big, green and mean hurts almost as much as the building, and inside the armour Tony wheezes for breath.   
“Tinman alive?” Hulk questions after a long silence in which Tony quietly contemplates his life choices and has Regrets, capitalisation definitely required.   
“Debatable,” He grunts out finally, and is surprised by how gently the Hulk lowers both him and Steve to the ground.

 

“Everyone else okay? Did they all explode?” Tony asks, eyes on Cap as he reaches up and flips his cowl down. He looks like he’s been hit by a building (ha, ha Stark), blue eyes blown wide with shock, covered in dust and blood from various scrapes.  
“Everyone else was clear,” Nat’s voice says both aloud and across the comms as she appears from seemingly nowhere, fucking spies. “It’s a good thing we evacuated this area, or that could have been disastrous.” She continues with a tiny frown, looking at the gaping crater in the street.   
“Iron Man…” Steve says, soft and shocked, hand reached out like he wants, _needs_ to touch and that’s when Tony’s brain catches up to him.

 

He spoke. To _Steve._

 

Ice crawls through his veins, and Tony breathes deep and slow, tries not to panic, panics a lot.

 

_I expected more._

  


He doesn’t say anything, can’t, doesn’t know _what_ he can say. Steve takes the choice away from him, his face settling into firm lines.   
“We’ll talk later.” He says it like a promise, and Tony wants to laugh, because his stupid brain hears it as a threat and his heart jackrabbits behind the arc reactor. He doesn’t want to talk, he wants to hide in his workshop for the rest of his life and finally figure out how to safely administer coffee intravenously, biology be _damned._   
“Let’s get started cleaning this mess up.” Cap orders, to the general groans of the team, and the moment passes.

 

Tony breathes.

 

~x~

 

Cleanup seems to take forever, with Tony spending a ridiculous amount of time literally peeling Doombot chunks off the side of buildings. He’s calmer, now, with something to focus his mind on that isn’t his god damned _soul mate_ , and Cap hasn’t said anything further and Tony thinks he might just make it through this.   
“So, aside from being an asshole,” Clint comments, yanking one of his arrows from the sparking head of a mostly intact bot. “What was the goal here? I mean, they just flew around and blew shit up.” He waves the arrow in a vaguely threatening manner and Tony snorts.   
“It’s Doom, does he really need a reason? What’s that phrase Bruce likes again? Bag of cats?”   
“Can smell the crazy on him.” Natasha intones, and Tony thinks he can detect a tiny hint of amusement in her voice.   
“I believe this is the last of them!” Thor chimes in, dropping an armful of scrap metal onto the pile they’ve already collected. “Tis unfortunate our foes exploded as they did. It made cleaning up rather time consuming.”   
“You can say that again.” Clint grumbles. Thor quirks an eyebrow and opens his mouth, his eyes dancing with mirth.   
“Alright, Avengers!” Cap hastily cuts in, because they all know Thor isn’t an idiot, but he’s also not above playing on the fact he’s often assumed to be in order to poke fun. “I think we’ve earned a break, so let’s head home.” Tony gusts a sigh of relief, soundless inside the helmet. He needs to start an entirely new form of damage control right now.   
“J,” He croaks, off the comms, and there’s a near silent chime within the confines of the helmet, because JARVIS knows Tony is too fragile for words right now. The autopilot engages, and Iron Man hurtles into the sky.

 

~x~

 

The workshop is a cooling balm on Tony’s frayed nerves. He shucks the suit in the secret side-room of the workshop and leaves it for the repair bots to go over. They’ll fix anything minor and he can work on any major problems later. Tony drops down onto his wheeled stool, hissing at the dull throb of his shoulder, pushes off with one foot and sends himself careening across the room until he fetches up against his bench.  
“J, call Rhodey.” He orders, then leans forward to slump against the bench. There’s a moment of quiet, with only the soft squeak of DUM-E’s wheels as the bop rolls around the shop. An ice pack drops onto the table next to him, and Tony gratefully presses it against his thankfully _not_ dislocated shoulder.   
“Tones? Everything okay?” Rhodey’s voice is warm and familiar, projected from the speakers so Tony feels surrounded in the best way.   
“Sugarplum!” He calls with false cheer, turning his head just enough to be able to see the screen. Rhodey looks tired but otherwise okay, his eyes soft and concerned. Tony slumps a little more, let’s the smile drop from his face. “I fucked up, Rhodey. I spoke to Steve.” He whines, and Rhodey’s head tilts a little, his brow wrinkling.   
“Uh, yeah? Tones, talking to people is kinda mandatory when you, y’know, _live_ with them.” He says, slowly, like he’s worried Tony is losing his mind. _Oh,_ Tony thinks, because he hasn’t told Rhodey about the helicarrier. Tony can’t bring himself to say the words, has never been able to say them, but he reaches up and touches his shoulder. Rhodey follows the motion, and his eyes widen, and then narrow.   
“Oh.” He mutters darkly, and Tony’s reminded of all the bullies in college who learned to leave the scrawny Stark kid alone. “Do I need to come over?” Rhodey asks, and Tony loves him for asking, finds a small, natural smile for his best friend.   
“Don’t be ridiculous, Honeybear, I’m fine, the problem is _Iron Man_ spoke to Steve.” He responds, and Rhodey winces.   
“Well, shit.” He states, and Tony finds himself laughing, bright and real.   
“Basically, yeah. I mean, what do I even say to the guy? How do I even?” Tony trails off, gestures helplessly with his hands, because he doesn’t _get_ people, has never understood people. People aren’t like machines, with parts that do this, and if you do this then the machine will react like _this_ and everything makes sense.   
“I dunno, Tones. I mean, what happened? _Captain America?_ I can’t even imagine him saying that to you. Not...Y’know, like that.” Rhodey wrinkles his nose, scratches thoughtfully at his jaw with one hand and Tony huffs.

 

He doesn’t really want to talk about the Helicarrier, _really_ doesn’t. But it’s Rhodey, and maybe Rhodey will see something he doesn’t, make it all make sense. Tony opens his mouth, intends to let loose every dark thought he’s ever had about his damn words, both before and after meeting Steve, and normally he’d have to be roaring drunk to share like this but he just wants this pain to _stop_ and -

“Sir, Captain Rogers is requesting entrance.” JARVIS intones softly from the ceiling, and Rhodey grimaces.  
“That’s my cue, man. Good luck, and if you need me? Call, okay Tones?” Rhodey smiles and a moment later the screen winks out.

 

Tony turns slowly to face the workshop door, with the kind of trepidation one probably faces an executioner. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, the cat’s already out of the bag. He regretfully removes the ice pack and nudges it off to the side.   
“Let him in, J.” He murmurs, but the AI clearly hears, as the workshop door slides open. Steve steps in, and he’s clearly showered since they’ve returned. There’s a pristine white plaster across his forehead, and several more on his arms. He’s changed into one of his white shirts that Tony is _very_ sure is at least two sizes too small, and a pair of jeans Tony knows Natasha picked out for him. He looks delicious, and terrifying, and _untouchable._   
“Hi, Mr Stark, sorry to bother you.” Steve looks nervous, shuffling a little on his feet, and one hand cups the back of his neck. “I was looking for Iron Man?” His voice lilts upward at the end, turning it to a question, and Tony’s heart thumps.   
“Iron Man? Oh, he’s not here at the moment.” Tony replies, proud of how breezy and unconcerned he sounds. Steve visibly deflates, but rather than leaving he edges a little further into the room.   
“Is he okay? We took a nasty hit right at the end, there.” Tony blinks, taken aback by the concern, and then inwardly shakes the thought aside. Of course Steve is worried; Iron Man is part of the team, a _hero._ Steve’s just being a good leader.

 

Okay, so he likes to lie to himself a lot.

  
“He’s fine, just a little bruised I suspect.” Tony responds easily, turns around to make himself look busy. “I’m sure he’ll turn up again soon.” He adds, hoping Steve will get the hint and _leave._ Of course, he doesn’t, and Tony hears the supersoldier edge a little closer.   
“Mister Stark? I know you said, I know we agreed not to pry into Iron Man’s identity, but.” Steve trails off for a moment, and Tony’s entire body goes rigid. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve nervously touching a hand to his hip, curling his fingers into his shirt.   
“Well, I think Iron Man is my soulmate, and I guess I was hoping you’d make an exception. For uh, for that.” Steve tilts his chin up, and he looks brave and determined, but Tony can see the nervousness, the fragile hope in his eyes.

 

And Tony knows, okay? He knows he’s a terrible person. He knows he earned those words Steve gave him, long before he ever met Steve, when he was four and the circuit board he built worked, but not _good enough._ When he made weapons that instead of protecting his countrymen, were sold to terrorists and killed innocent people. Tony _knows,_ that there’s a darkness inside him he’ll never get rid of, more red in his ledger than he can ever wipe out. He knows what he is, and he knows what Steve is, so he turns his chair halfway, enough to give Steve a small, sad smile over his shoulder.   
“I’m sorry, Steve, Iron Man doesn’t _have_ soul words.” He lies, and the words taste bitter on his tongue.

  
He doesn’t watch Steve leave, and sits quietly in the empty lab for many hours after he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my other [work](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingdarkly), or come see me on [Tumblr](http://www.mistrstank.tumblr.com).


	5. Grounding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get explained, Steve and Tony reach something of an understanding, and then everything gets turned upside down, Winter Soldier style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm back!
> 
> First of all, thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to leave comments and kudos. I'm sorry I don't reply to all of them, but I do read every single one and they are all appreciated! <3 I'm sorry about the delay in the updates, or the fact I don't have a regular schedule haha. I'm a shift worker and my days off rotate, so I mostly squeeze some writing in around that.
> 
> I guess I should preface this chapter with just a little note; this is the longest chapter yet, I think, and it's a lot in part because it really fought me. I'm still not 100% sure I'm happy with it, but it's been rewritten so many times it's not funny. Steve of course fought me on my outline, so there's not as much Bucky in this chapter as I'd intended, but I think Steve and Tony are in a much better place. I hope you all enjoy it regardless, and with luck I shouldn't be far away with the next update!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me.

Steve starts drawing in the workshop. The first time he stands in the doorway and sheepishly holds up a sketchbook Tony feels his heart drop down to the region of his shoes. By the end of the first day his anxiety has dropped a notch or two; Steve doesn’t seem to expect anything in the way of the conversation, simply sits quietly on the battered red couch. Tony finds himself turning his music down within the first hour, ostensibly not to deafen Steve, but mostly because the soft scratching of the pencils is oddly soothing. By the time a week of this has passed, Tony doesn’t even react to Steve’s arrival, and the workshop couch has become ‘Steve’s couch’ in his mind.

 

Tony’s in the midst of carefully wiring an Iron Man gauntlet when the doors slide open behind him and his music turns down to a low hum. He doesn’t look up, flicks the fingers of one hand in a greeting, and then leans closer to his work. He tugs gently on a wire with a pair of delicate metal forceps and the fingers of the gauntlet obligingly twitch.   
“So, Iron Man is something you...Pilot? A manned vehicle?” Steve’s voice comes from surprisingly close, and Tony almost jumps, but controls the impulse at the last moment. He blinks out of his fugue, and leans back on his stool until his spine gives an obliging ‘crack’.   
“Hmm, yeah. What, did you think Iron Man was a robot?” Tony responds with a little smile, and has to laugh at the adorable little flush that spreads over Steve’s cheekbones. The rest of the words catch up with him a moment later, and without thinking Tony backhands Steve’s bicep.   
“I’m sorry, did you just call my expensive,  _ genius  _ invention a  _ vehicle?  _ Steve, Steve why do you wound me like this? You come into my house, eat my food, and this is how you speak to me? I am  _ gutted,  _ Capsicle.” Steve’s eyes widen at the nickname, and internally Tony begins to panic; Iron Man has referred to Steve many times by that name, but  _ Tony Stark  _ hasn’t and oh  _ shit-  _

The moment passes when Steve merely shakes his head, one big hand ruffling gently through Tony’s hair.   
“You know what I mean, genius.” He says warmly, and it takes Tony a moment to catch the thread of their conversation. Tony snorts once he’s back on track and picks his tools back up.   
“Ha! Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr Rogers.” He quips easily, as though every moment of this conversation isn’t both terrible and wonderful; he feels lighter than he can ever remember feeling, because this is his soulmate, and he can see the amusement in Steve’s eyes, he’s making his soulmate happy.

 

_ Iron Man doesn’t  _ have  _ soul words. _

 

It’s enough to wipe the smile from Tony’s face, and he clears his throat as he drops his attention back to the gauntlet, silently ending the conversation. Isn’t it fucking ironic that his soul words have haunted him all his life, and now that he’s met his soulmate, it’s his own words that taunt him?

 

He hears a quiet sigh, and then Steve pads over to his couch without a word. It takes some doing, but eventually Tony manages to forget his soulmate’s presence and sinks back into his work; the world falls away and it’s simply Tony and his numbers. Occasionally, he’ll murmur quietly to JARVIS, but the AI recognises this state and so he rarely answers. He forgets about the ache in his spine from being hunched over, the endless throb in his heart that he’s never sure whether it belongs to the arc or an incomplete soulbond. Time moves forward, with only the scratch of Steve’s pencils and the sound of the bots moving around the shop to mark it.

 

Eventually, Steve leaves, but Tony doesn’t notice.

 

~x~

 

He’s surprised, however, when Steve comes back the next day. The supersoldier enters the shop at his usual time, gently places a cup of coffee at Tony’s elbow, and retreats to his couch like it’s any other day. Tony blinks after him for a moment, and then with an internal shrug he scoops up the coffee. Whatever, free caffeine.   
“I went to an expo before the war,” Steve says, apropos of nothing hours later. Tony flips his welding mask up and blinks owlishly, confused by this abrupt apparent non-sequitur. “They were showing us what the future would look like. It was the first time I ever saw your father, before I knew him.” Steve pauses, and his mouth twists like he wants to frown. Tony automatically flinches at the mention of his father, but he’s caught now, wound up in the distant, almost wistful tone of Steve’s voice. He’s caught in faraway blue eyes, and Tony’s a genius, okay, so he notices things, and now that he’s seeing the deep sadness in Steve’s he can’t look away.   
“Yeah, flying cars never took off.” He manages to choke out around the lump in his throat, doesn’t even notice the pun until Steve chuckles, the sound harsh and grating.   
“I did notice that, thanks.” He says dryly, and Tony pretends he doesn’t notice Steve wiping his eyes. “We, uh, Buck and I, we always thought the future would be this...Well, flying cars and all those things we read in those dimestore science fictions. We were never gonna see it, so it was fun to imagine, right? And then, I died, and I woke up. I looked around, and I thought, everything’s the same, and in some places it’s worse.” Steve’s hands clench around his knees, and he’s staring at the wall of Tony’s workshop like he wants to bore a hole through it, and Tony can’t move, can’t breathe. “We cured polio, and we won the war, but we’re still fighting everyone who looks at us funny, and, and they say it’s okay to be... _ Different,  _ but it’s not, is it? I slept for 70 years, Mr Stark, and humanity hasn’t changed all that much.” Steve’s breath hitches, and his eyes are damp, and panic blazes through Tony, because jesus he doesn’t  _ do  _ emotions. He carefully puts down his tools and his precious coffee, and then after a moment’s deliberation he rolls his stool over. Their knees bump, and the contact seems to surprise Steve, but then he reaches out and his hands settle on Tony’s arms, holding on like a man in a storm looking to ground himself. Tony doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s an engineer but he doesn’t know how to fix  _ people _ . This is his soulmate, hurting, and even if Steve doesn’t want him, it’s not in his nature to do nothing.

Tony ducks his head a little, until Steve’s gaze catches on his, and holds.   
“Different, Steve?” He questions softly, and maybe this is asking for trouble, but he doesn’t know what he’s dealing with. Steve flinches a little, and Tony thinks he’s going to withdraw, end the conversation, but then his chin comes up in patented Steve Rogers stubbornness. He holds onto Tony with one hand, and with the other he hikes his plain blue shirt up.

 

And.

 

There’s words.

 

Tony’s breathing goes shallow, and he can’t tear his eyes away.

 

_ Jesus, fuck, christ on a damn cracker, Cap move!  _ And Tony’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry at the words that start on Steve’s left pectoral and wind down his chest and over his ribs. He wants to reach out and touch, trace his fingers over this irrevocable proof that Steve is supposed to be his. He’s following the words with his eyes, and his resolve is wavering, fingers twitching against his thighs, when he catches something else just beyond where the words end. Steve obligingly twists, and Tony can see a second set of words, starting at the back of the shoulder and looping around to meet the first. _   
_ “Scrappy little punk, ain’tcha?” Tony reads aloud with a little smile, butchering the accent horribly, no doubt. Steve makes a choked sound at the words, his hand clenching almost tight enough to hurt around Tony’s forearm.   
“Bucky.” He whispers, and Tony’s never heard a name said with such miserable longing before. It makes his heart hurt. He wonders, then, if Bucky was supposed to be his second soulmate, and fate decided to screw them all, or if he’s so unlucky that there’s  _ another  _ person out there. Either way, he figures, fate screwed him good.   
“After he fell, the only thing I had left was this,” Steve whispers, like a confession, staring down at the outrageous words on his chest. “I thought, ‘I’ve lost one, I can’t lose the other’. And then, the ice, and I woke up, and I thought my chance was gone. He’d be long dead by now, or she I suppose. I’m alone.” Steve’s hand slides away from Tony, and he misses it’s warmth almost immediately. “And then Iron Man said it.” Steve looks up, suddenly, and his eyes are bright and alive, and Tony can see the determined little guy who wouldn’t let the world put him down. “Tony, those are some...Pretty unique words. You tellin’ me that it’s a coincidence? I’m callin’ bullshit. I can’t...I can’t lose everything again.” Steve places both hands, featherlight, on Tony’s wrists, leans forward a little, and Tony is drowning in blue, blue eyes. His gaze is gentle, warm and welcoming, and Tony wants to dive in headfirst and never come out. He finds himself gripping at Steve’s wrists in turn, but where Steve is merely touching, Tony is holding on like he’s terrified to let go. Steve’s fingers stroke gently over the sleeves of his shirt, on the hidden second set of words.   
“Tony, who is Iron Man?” Steve whispers, and if Tony didn’t know better, he’d say there was almost a knowing glint in his eyes. Tony doesn’t tense or flinch at the question, but it’s a hard won battle. He takes a deep breath, and then slides his hands up to Steve’s shoulders, gives them an almost friendly squeeze before he moves back. Steve takes the hint and retreats out of his space, though he looks reluctant. Tony stands and paces a little further away, needing distance to sort his thoughts out. He wants to tell Steve, wants to throw off his shirt and bare his words and fuck what might happen; he’s  __ tired  of hiding, of running away. But all this time, he hasn’t thought he was good enough for his soulmate, hasn’t thought he was ready, he never really considered.

Is Steve ready for him?

  
“Steve, I can’t tell you who Iron Man is,” Tony says, as gently as he can, steeling himself against the disappointment in his face. He holds up a hand when Steve opens his mouth and, surprisingly, the soldier settles. “That’s up to him. But you can reach out, spend some time with him. Steve, this soulmate business,” Tony pauses, takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s not a fix-all, you understand? You’re grieving, you lost your soulmate. For you, it probably feels like yesterday. It hasn’t been 70 years for you. You need to give yourself time to grieve. If Iron Man really is your soulmate? That’s not going to fill the hole Bucky left, and it’d be unfair to both of you if you try.” Tony’s proud of how even his voice sounds, how reasonable. He sounds, possibly for one of the first times in his life, like an Emotionally Mature Adult, capitalisation required. He wonders if Pepper would believe him, if he told her. Steve frowns a little, but it’s thoughtful rather than argumentative, and Tony forcibly chokes down the relieved sigh that tries to crawl up his throat.    
“I...Hadn’t thought of that,” Steve says slowly, consideringly, and then he nods as if he’s come to some decision. “Thank you, Tony. I hope you don’t mind if I keep coming down here? It’s...Comforting, I can’t really explain why.” And the shy Brooklyn boy is back, in the shy smile and the sheepish way Steve shrugs his shoulders. Tony makes some vaguely agreeing sound, and Steve leaves with a friendly clap to his shoulder.

 

Tony stands, a little lost, in the middle of his lab for a long time.   
“JARVIS, did that just…?” He trails off, stares blankly as DUM-E beeps reassuringly at him, and carefully slides his now cold coffee mug into his hand. Miraculously, the bot seems to have avoided spilling it all.   
“Yes, sir, I believe it did.” JARVIS says softly, and he almost sounds proud. Tony inhales deeply, and lets it out on a long sigh as he sinks down onto his workstool.   
“Okay, okay, let’s work through this.” He murmurs, somewhat to himself. He ghosts his free hand over his shoulder, where Steve’s words seem oddly warm against his skin. It’s oddly freeing to think he’s spent his entire life thinking they meant he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t  _ wanted,  _ but if he’s reading the lay of the land right, maybe they’re his words, but they’d actually had nothing to do with him in the end. Tony lets a small smile slip over his features, and doesn’t try too hard to squash the tiny bubble of hope in his stomach. Things aren’t okay, exactly, Steve isn’t ready for him, and Tony can’t quite bring himself to let go of his security blanket just yet. Iron Man is safe, both a literal and a figurative mask for Tony to hide behind. He can get close to Steve as Iron Man, and if it all blows up in his face? Tony can pretend, at least to himself, that he’s not in the firing line. He can hide down here, and lick his wounds, and pretend it never mattered because no one gets to see Tony Stark’s soft spots. Tony gives himself a mental shake, and downs his cold coffee in three swallows, dropping the cup onto a bench to the side.   
“Okay! Enough of  that, chop chop boys, we’ve got scienceing to do!” He crows, clapping his hands, and his bots gleefully crowd around his legs.   
“May I remind you once again, sir, that ‘scienceing’ is not actually a verb?” JARVIS says dryly, long suffering, and Tony grins.   
“No, you may not.” He quips, and throws his holograms up with a careless gesture of his hands. The workshop explodes in light, and Tony’s mind feels like it expands, until the room is too small to hold him and he’s lost in a whole new universe, of numbers and parts where things like soulmates and healthy adult relationships don’t matter.

 

He’s drawn out of it who knows how many hours later by JARVIS’ voice, urgent enough that it catches Tony’s attention and holds it, draws him out of his thoughts. JARVIS knows the instant Tony’s aware and present, despite the fact he doesn’t say anything,   
“Sir, there’s been an incident. Director Fury has been attacked. Captain Rogers has left the building and said he will meet you en route.” Tony blinks, and it takes less than a second for his focus to sharpen, and then he’s running for the elevator.   
“What the hell happened? Status on the other Avengers? Why didn’t Steve wait?” He barks out, rapid fire.    
“An unknown assailant attacked the Director in transition,” JARVIS responds, calm in the way only an AI can be. “I cannot locate the Director on CCTV any longer, I believe he may have fled the scene. The attacker also fled. Yourself and Captain Rogers are currently the only Avengers in attendance; Black Widow is logged as being at SHIELD headquarters, Hawkeye is currently on an away mission, location classified, Thor is off world, and Doctor Banner is attending a medical conference. The Captain felt time was of the essence.” Tony absorbs the information as rapidly as it’s given to him, rushing through the assembly and diving through the exit the moment the plates lock smoothly around him. Iron Man blasts into the sky, and JARVIS helpfully projects both a map and a picture of the assassin on the HUD.    
“Who the hell are we dealing with, J? And get Cap on comms.” Tony demands, terse as anxiety curls low in his stomach. He doesn’t get along with Fury on a good day, but that doesn’t mean he wants the asshole dead.   
“Working on it, sir. Facial recognition is compromised, masks have an unfortunate tendency towards making identification difficult. How strange.” Tony can’t help the small smile that steals over his face at his AI’s sass.   
“Alright, alright, don’t get your wires in a tangle.” He responds with a soft laugh, coming in for a swift landing next to what he thinks used to be Fury’s car. “Jesus,” He mutters, ignoring for the moment the police swarming the scene in favour of getting a closer look at the damage. There’s barely anything left of the SUV; it looks like it’s been through the wars.   
“Iron Man?” Cap’s voice comes over the line, cool and sure, though Tony can hear the underlying strain.   
“Cap, where the hell are you? I’m at the scene now, but it looks like everyone’s bailed.” Tony swivels, has JARVIS scanning literally everything he can get his digital eyes on.   
“J, see if you can track our assassin’s path.” He murmurs, offering a quick salute to the gathered emergency services before he takes off again. There’s nothing he can do here.   
“I’m at SHIELD headquarters with Nat. We’re trying to get an update; there was no body at the scene so we’re trying to trace the Director’s steps.” Steve answers, and then Nat’s voice comes over the comms.   
“All we have so far is that it was The Winter Soldier. Bad news.” She sounds calm, almost bored, and Tony envies her calm.   
“Coming from the Black Widow? That’s only somewhat terrifying. I’ve got JARVIS tracking our trigger happy friend now, I’ll do a bit of a fly by, see if I can trace his steps. You see what you can do on your end, and we’ll meet somewhere in the middle. Iron Man out.” Tony doesn’t wait for a reply, cutting the comms. “Alright, J, any luck?” He hovers for a moment above the crash site, and then starts a slowly expanding search pattern.   
“Our ‘friend’, as you put it, seems rather adept at avoiding being caught on camera.” JARVIS responds, and he sounds frustrated. “I have a general direction, at best. My last recorded sighting is here, sir, but beyond that I’m afraid I have no idea.” JARVIS indicates a section of Tony’s map and he obligingly angles in that direction.

  
He’s not all that surprised when his searching proves to be a bust, and hours later he reports as much to Steve and Nat before heading back for the tower. There’s nothing more Iron Man can do, so it’s Tony Stark’s turn now. Tony ducks through his side entrance, and is just approaching the assembly line when his comm beeps. Tony engages it distractedly, mentally running through a decent search algorithm that’ll track down either their wayward Director, their assassin or (with luck) both.   
“Iron Man,” He bites out, frustrated with a day’s worth of fruitless searching.   
“It’s Bucky,” Steve’s voice says, choked and hoarse, and Tony freezes. “Oh my god, Iron Man, the assassin. It’s  _ Bucky.  _ Director Fury is dead, and it’s Bucky.” He sounds like he’s on the verge of a panic attack and Tony’s brain locks down; he feels like he’s just blue screened, he’s got nothing. He wants to ask how, he wants to scream, he wants to ask what the hell they do now, but most of all he hates himself for how  _ unfair  _ it all feels.   
“Okay, okay Cap, I need you to focus.” Tony forces himself to breathe, ruthlessly crushes everything he’s feeling into a corner, and he knows he sounds a little terse, but at least he’s calm. Steve’s breathing steadies a little, but he’s still choking out little sobs, like he wants to break down but he knows he can’t, not yet. “Listen to me. You need to compartmentalise, soldier. This sucks, okay, this is the fucking worst, but we have to do what needs doing right now. We’re superheroes, and our lives are shit and we don’t get to break down when we need to.” It’s probably the worst pep talk ever, but Steve seems oddly calmed by it, and Tony can’t see him but he can hear the way the sobs peter out and Steve’s breathing evens into deep, calm draws. He can imagine the way Steve Rogers gets tucked away, behind Captain America. Once Steve sounds calm, Tony lets out a shaky breath,    
“Alright, Cap. So what’s our next move?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?
> 
> As always, join me on [Tumblr](http://mistrstank.tumblr.com). I'm currently doing a Drabble Challenge where you may prompt me with a pairing and a sentence. :)


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